Breaking Through
by Junkyxl
Summary: He was chipping away at her walls, subconsciously knowing how he needed to do it. She gave him a 'Hey, Bolton', and he was gone.


**Breaking Through**

"Come on, Troy. Pick up the pace!"

The guy in question sighed and shook his head, dribbling the ball as he raced towards the basket, giving it all he got as he threw the ball towards it. It bounced off, hitting the sidelines and rolling past the bleachers. His dad glared at him, knowing his son had intentionally thrown the ball away.

Troy shrugged carelessly, somehow having lost the energy to even deny the accusation. He ran behind the bleachers and slumped down against the wall there, finding freedom in the small, but empty space. He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. He was finding it more and more difficult to keep up his façade. It wasn't that he didn't like playing basketball or that he hated being the captain, but he could only take so much pressure before he'd crack and break down. It seemed the break down had already started as he thought about his life.

He'd never felt the need to complain, not about important matters anyhow. He'd always been a rather happy-go-lucky kind of guy, always with a smile, never with a frown. He'd been the Basketball King of East High and had liked it, because everybody liked a little attention now and then. But as he thought about it, he'd never been through any hardships, had always taken the easy way out, even when he auditioned for that musicale. He'd taken the easy way out by complaining about Gabriella towards the team when they'd come up with that plan. He'd taken the easy way out when Gabriella has kissed him by dating her.

But he was sick of it. He was sick of being the shoulder everybody cried on whenever someone's pet died or whenever a guy broke a girl's heart. He was sick of being the mindless idiot who got the full brunt whenever they lost a game or whenever one of his teammates did something stupid.

He heard clicking sounds as a pair of heels flashed before him. They continued, and Troy looked up, recognising them anywhere. She was walking towards the door at the end of the gym, completely oblivious to the distressed teen on the floor. He called her name, but she ignored him, giving him only the slightest sight of a finger. He chuckled for some reason, admiring her when she disappeared out the door.

She'd never been afraid of the school's population. She didn't give a damn about any of them, only about herself and sometimes her brother. She told the truth, the harsh and brutal truth, and while others condemned her for it, he admired her strength, her honesty. She'd never been one to sugar coat the truth, and if people didn't like the real her, they could go screw themselves. She'd never let anyone build up expectations so high it was only natural they would crumble down and cause disappointment.

He wished he'd been like that. He often wished he had the strength to show the real him, because no one could be as easy going as him without exploding once in a while. Everybody had a dark side, Sharpay just showed that side without fear and without shame or guilt. She knew herself and didn't give a damn about what others thought.

"Troy! You coming or what, you've been looking for that ball for ages now."

Troy shook his head, clearing all thoughts about a certain blonde, his life, the mystery that came with her passing him behind the bleachers, and the wonder that Sharpay Evans actually walked in dirty gyms.

"There you are," Chad said exasperatedly, shaking the black wig on his head as Troy appeared before him. "Practice is almost over, what the hell were you doing behind that thing?" and he grinned, wiggling his eye brows, doing just what every teenage boy does.

Troy smiled despite himself, knowing his best friend did it just to cheer him up. Chad had seen the way Troy had changed the last couple of weeks. Suddenly the class-clownish side of him was gone, and in his place was now a more serious side, like he became a brooding young man in just a few moments.

Troy pushed his shoulder, shaking Chad out of his thoughts. As Chad watched him dribble the basketball before missing another shot, he cursed heaven and hell for making whatever it is Troy had contagious.

The bell rang moments later, the team already in the locker room before it ended. Troy finished last, as usual now, and he changed into his clothes slowly, knowing his father would be waiting behind that door, ready to give him a lecture about his future.

"Troy, you need to focus on your future."

"Yes, dad."

"If you don't play well, you're not going to have a great one."

"I know, dad."

"There are going to be scouts in a couple of months, you'll need to be in top shape if you want to get one of those scholarships."

"Okay, dad."

And that was how it went. It surprised Troy actually, his dad was prone to come up with larger lectures.

He nearly skipped down the hallway, ready to leave the dreadful white building, when he heard the same clicking heels as before. He turned, ready to call out her name again as he opened his mouth.

"Don't start, Bolton."

He closed his mouth, not up to looking like a fish. She stalked past him, pushing him out of the way, even though the hall was big enough for her to walk around him. He smirked at that. _Same old Sharpay_.

"Hey."

She spun around so fast he thought she'd get whiplash. "Are you deaf?"

"No, I just ignored what you were saying," he said simply.

She rolled her eyes, ready to give him all she got, when he interrupted her, "Before you think up any more ways of insulting me, I just wanted to say _hey_. Nothing more, nothing less."

She narrowed her eyes, suspicion standing out clear as day in those brown orbs. He shrugged, as if to tell her he didn't know why all of a sudden he was talking to her. She turned around eventually, not giving him any further acknowledgement, and walked away to wherever she was headed.

Troy smiled as he went to his car.

He exchanged pleasantries with her the next day too, though she gave him more _un_pleasantries than anything else. She warned him to stop talking to her, he ignored it.

It continued that way for a week. She ignored him every day, stalking past him without saying a word back, until finally she gave him a short, cold hello in the form of his name. He was on cloud nine for the rest of that day.

It occurred to him one of those days, after she'd given him a, in his mind, slightly warmer _Bolton_, that he should probably figure out why he wanted so bad to get her to talk to him. It hadn't taken some big epiphany, no fireworks, no angsty revelations, just another short, quick _hi, Bolton_ was all it took to get him to realise it.

He kept it to himself, ignoring all questions of why he could suddenly play basketball better than ever or why his drama grade had shot up the roof, going from a D to an A in just a short while.

He auditioned for a play after two weeks and immediately landed the role. Gabriella hadn't auditioned, she'd fallen back into her studious nature pretty quickly after the whole breaking free period. He'd been on the verge of it too, on the verge of falling back into his Basketball King role, until the whole episode with Sharpay had started.

She'd gotten the lead part together with him, something she wasn't happy with, but he knew she would've hated it more if the past few weeks hadn't happened. He found that he was slowly breaking the ice around her, at least the ice that guarded her from him, when one day they were walking down the hall with their usual greetings, and she'd upped hers towards a slightly longer _hey, Bolton_.

He was chipping away at her walls, subconsciously knowing how he needed to do it.

She gave him a tiny, little smile one day, after more than three weeks of _hey's_, and he'd nearly shouted to all and above that he loved that girl. He'd known it was as close to a smile he would get, she never seemed to give any anyhow and had found his place again on cloud nine.

She gave him the time of day soon after, not really snapping at him anymore, but there weren't any nice words coming out of her mouth either. She still called him Bolton, but the way she said it now almost made it seem like a compliment rather than an insult. They never hung out in public, just quick greetings, still short and to the point on her part, but aside from the conversations in the theatre, they never really spoke.

In some way, he liked it. It felt as if they had some sort of special bond no one knew about, not Chad, not Ryan, not anybody. She'd told him about her aspirations, about her dreams and goals. He'd told her about his and watched as her eyes widened slightly, just slightly, the most of a shocked look he would ever get. He'd realised she was an actress in every which way, born to be one, as if she was a robot and put together just to act. She was like the elegant ladies in the thirties, like the Broadway stars of the fifties, and he could hardly wait until he'd finally see her live up her dreams.

"Bolton, centre stage, please."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, as he hurried towards the pointed area. He heard Sharpay snort behind him, a sneer on her face. He stuck out his tongue and saw her lift one delicate eyebrow.

They got into their parts soon after, letting Troy and Sharpay hang suspended in an unknown dimension for a moment, until Ms. Darbus screamed cut and they stepped back into their everyday role. The exuberant teacher applauded them for a moment, giving them praises everywhere, and Troy and Sharpay smirked at each other.

"Is that a cell phone?" she yelled all of a sudden.

"Um, that's the bell, Ms. Darbus."

"Oh, well, be back here tomorrow after four for the last rehearsal."

Sharpay paraded up next to him, "We were good," she said. He'd learned that she never complimented anybody unless she was directly involved in the compliment, and thus he knew to take this as one.

"Yeah, we were."

She smiled and he melted.

"Let's go, Bolton. Places to be, things to do."

He nodded, making sure he hadn't forgotten anything as they left the theatre. He'd gotten her to accept his proposal of joint rides. It wouldn't make sense to drive in two cars if he'd drive past her house anyhow, and this way Ryan wouldn't have to wait for her either.

He was counting the tiles as they walked side by side, contemplating their situation once again. It was a subject that seemed to be stuck inside his head, but he'd been working up the courage to go further for a while now. She was giving him hints of warming up towards him, but had never shown any interest in a romantic way.

"You look like a dumbass staring at the floor like that."

"Nice."

"It is, isn't it?" she said as she peered at him from under her blonde bangs. She was smirking at him, knowing it wouldn't take him long to flash a smile.

"Dammit," he swore. "I can never win with you."

"I know," she clapped, "that's why I'm the Ice Queen, and you are not!"

He frowned and his feet stopped. He tried to move them, but they weren't working. She stopped and turned when she noticed his absence.

"What – "

"I love you."

He shocked himself with the words, his mouth had been forming and his brain stopping those words for a very long time, but now it seemed his heart had finally won the battle for him. He was moving towards her without his knowledge, his subconscious was doing what he needed to do to get to her.

She sneered, "And why wouldn't you?" But he could see the panic swirling in her eyes.

He reached her and put her hand in his. She drew back, but he held on, putting both their hands on his heart.

"I love you."

"You said that already."

"I love you."

She snorted, "Yeah, sure."

"I. Love. You."

He finally spotted a crack in her façade as a slight glint entered her eyes. It was an opening and he took it like the greedy guy he really was.

"Shut up."

"I love you."

"No, you don't. Shut up."

"I do. I love you."

"Fuck off, I hate you."

"I don't think you do."

"Yes, I do. I hate you. Go away."

And as he wrapped his arms around her waist, he felt her trembling against him. She put her hands on his chest, ready to push him away, but he was too strong and she was too weak right now. He smiled softly, and made eye contact, hoping against hope he could let some love and truth leak out of them. She had tears building up in the corners of her eyes, but he knew she'd never let them fall. No matter how hard she fell or how much pain she suffered, she'd never let another see her in all her 'weakness'.

"I love you, now shut up and love me back."

She slapped his chest, pumping her little fists up and down, breaking down right in front of him. He was shocked for a moment as one perfect little tear rolled down her cheek, but it was gone before he could feel the guilt for his actions. He could feel it, could feel that a breakthrough was right around the corner. Whether she'd hate him or love him, he didn't know, but it was coming either way.

Her mask was back on before he knew it, the icy façade building itself up. He made a desperate attempt, knowing as she drew herself back up ready to push him away again, that this was the last chance he'd ever have to let her see it, let her see the truth, so he kissed her for all he was worth.

The hands that had previously been pushing him away were now busy pulling on his neck and hair and everywhere they could go. She had a desperation behind it all, as if she didn't know how to do this and was just doing whatever she could to not do anything wrong.

He was confused and she was confused, but she wasn't pushing him away and he loved her and that was all that mattered.

"I don't love you," she said, disengaging her lips from his for a moment.

"Too bad, I do love you."

And they were gone, in the pretence of her hating him. He knew it and she knew it. She loved him as much as he did. Troy had been wishing for this day ever since she'd stopped flirting with him.

She kissed him one last time before turning on her heel and walking away. He stood there, in all his confusion, the most a person can get in the matter of two seconds, because that was all it took for her to turn around and smirk at him.

"Aren't you coming? Come on, Bolton, we need to go and rehearse."

"I hate you," he muttered, still loving the feel of her hand as she ruffled his hair in a playful matter.

"No, you don't. But it's okay, because I hate you too, you ass."


End file.
